


myosotis

by weiwuxian (BreathOfDream)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha is a thing, Ballet Dancer Felix, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Jeongin is an Aquarius and a witch, Jisung is baby and especially changbin and chan's one, Language of Flowers, M/M, Mental Meltdown, Musician Changbin, Mutual Pining, Pining, Seo Changbin is Whipped, a bit of angst, but tbh its more, danceracha are all ballet dancers, fix you by coldplay start playing, humor? i try, kind of:, ok that sounds bad but, self destructive tendencies, so much pining but, the ot3 isn't that developped either but i swear i'll make something in the futur for them, unbeta we die like men, while crying, woojin & seungmin aren't that present but they're here, writer block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-03-08 01:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18885358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreathOfDream/pseuds/weiwuxian
Summary: au where Felix is a ballet dancer with dangling earrings and Changbin tries to figure out his flower.ft: Woojin and his books coming straight from the Victorian Era





	1. planting

The sound of the friction of body and fabric together and the screeching of feet against the ground resonated into the hallways. Changbin scrunched his nose with discomfort. Not only he could hear feet, but he definitely could smell it as well.

Behind Changbin, he could feel Jisung holding his hoodie with a tight grip, like he was afraid to lose Changbin in the almost-empty corridor. Changbin couldn’t bring himself to shake him off; he was as uncomfortable as him, surrounded by high ceiling and an overabundance of white. Even if the white wasn’t as overwhelming as it was now, the both of them clearly didn’t belong here, anyway. The dance department was an unknown territory and an unnerving one.

This was his first time entering the place even though he passed in front of it every morning, going to the studio with a cup of coffee and too little sleep. Jisung told him one day he still had nightmares about the time he went to look around and entered inadvertently in an ongoing class led by a famous choreographer. Needless to say, Jisung was now rather jittery here. But when was he not really? And it did not help Changbin rationalizing when he was supposed to be the composed out of the two .

Changbin tried to ignore the curious, when not indifferent, glares of the rare people they met in the interminable hallway and snickers they could hear from rooms with transparent panes. They probably that they were just paranoid was high, but it was also hard to ignore what felt like a hundred pairs of burning eyes. Damn it, dancers didn't gain the flirt reputation around the campus for nothing. The fact that it was in slow hours and everyone was trying to distract themselves for classes wasn’t helping in their favor either.

“I swear if Chan is fucking with us, I’m setting his fridge at the warmest I can,” grunted Changbin under his breath, grabbing Jisung’s shaky hand from his hoodie into his own before he had the chance to bolt off.

“He said he was in room Vaslav Nijinsky something something…” said Jisung in a hushed voice, walking faster.

“I have to say, I’m pretty impressed that you remembered the name.”

“Well, dancers are terrifying and I just don’t want to be here anymore. This is like, a survival instinct or something.” 

Changbin nodded with a compassionate grimace and pulled his cap a bit more on his face when a girl with a long ponytail winked at him.

All of the sudden, Changbin felt himself being pulled by the hand he was holding. With an excited squeak, Jisung was pointing at a large gold panel hanging over an open door. Inside of the exposed room, shadows of bodies were moving gracefully to the muffled rhythm of a music that was vaguely familiar to Changbin’s seasoned musician ears.

Even if faded by the years,  _ Vaslav Nijinsky  _ was towering them in big cursive, and Changbin let out a discreet sigh of relief.

“So,” Jisung was now looking at him with an expecting smile that Changbin was a bit afraid of.

“Yeah?”

“You go ask for Chan!” Squealed Jisung, and before Changbin had the chance to protest, he added hastily, “you’re the hyung, you must have the downside of the role. Plus, you’re better with crowds than me. Plus,  _ plus  _ (his voice keeps getting higher and higher, starting to concern seriously Changbin), it’s you who wanted to—” 

“Excuse me, can you stop yelling? Some of us are trying to work.” Interrupted a deep voice behind them, tinted with annoyance.

Jisung jumped and looked at the new arrival with wide eyes, letting go Changbin’s hand like it was on fire. Changbin would have been vexed if his breath hasn’t completely stop at the sight of the boy in front of them.

Oh no, he was  _ cute _ . 

With a raised eyebrow, almost silver hair, a dangling earrings swinging at each of his movement and pouty lips silently asking a response, the boy had an icy presence that made Changbin thought it was how he would die. By embarrassment or too pretty boy while searching for his best friend. He glanced at Jisung, looking for help, but was met by nothing but sheer panic.

“I don’t want to sound mean or anything, but what are you doing there? I’ve never seen you before and you don’t really look… Adequate.” Asked the boy, with a tone that showed that he, in fact, didn’t care at all if he sounded mean. He had an accent that Changbin couldn’t place, and his heavy gaze was too distracting to even try.

He wasn’t also wrong with the whole adequate thing so Changbin decided to not acknowledge this part. “So, uh, I— We’re looking for Chan, he said he was here so…” Changbin cursed himself for stuttering, damn you pretty boy. If Jisung wasn’t hiding behind him, he would be rightly laughing at him. If he wasn't sure before (which he was), Jisung would not be the ideal guy to have during a zombie apocalypse (it would be in order Seungmin, Woojin and maybe Chan but he had to redeem himself first).

“Chan?” The boy tilted his head in confusion, resulting to Changbin’s heart making a loop in his chest. Of disappointment. Yep. Pure disappointment. “Oh, you mean Chris!” He realized, clapping his hands together, startling Jisung.

“Um… Yeah probably, whatever you call him, if he looks like an excited puppy, is Australian, has dimples and currently has blond and strongly in need of conditioner hair then it’s my Chan.”

The boy cracked a small smile, amused, slipping slightly off his aloof mask but still kept his straight posture, giving him an elegance and nonchalance typical of ballet dancers.

“I think he’s in the back. I—”

“Felix, what the hell are you doing we need you for the next scene,” whined a boy from behind him, throwing his arms around Felix's waist, surprising and leaving him with a small gasp and widening eyes. Changbin tried and failed to not find him cute. New Boy had noticed them and wasted no time to send them a flirty smile from Felix's shoulder where he had rested his chin. “Oooh, is that some of your friends, Fée? You didn’t inform me they were coming! I would have made myself look pretty.” He winked at Jisung, who’s only answer was to blush bright red and hid even more behind Changbin. Useless bisexual piece of shit.

“Minho. You’re always pretty and you know it. Stop with your fake modesty,” grumbled Felix, rolling his eyes, his attitude contradicting the way his body was leaning into Minho’s embrace. And he was right. The boy has a doll-like appearance that would make anyone wants to offer him the keys of their house if he looked at them for more that 5 minutes. Changbin wondered distractedly if being angel-like was a requirement for being a dancer. Probably. “And they’re not friends, they’re looking for Chris.”

Then, shameless, Felix whispered something quick in Minho’s ear. Changbin was no painter, but for a moment the image in front of him struck him. The light of a dying day behind them, surrounded by sparks of dusk becoming gold around their two silhouette as the white of the wall made them the center of this unexpected painting, copper and beige. They looked like a Renaissance painting.

Changbin quietly thanked God for making him liking boy.

A light of understanding flickered into Minho’s eyes. He took a light step back, breaking the moment and was now staring at Jisung and him more carefully than before. Without stopping looking at them, Minho told Felix, “Well, what are you waiting for, go finds him. He’s at the back helping for fuck I know,” then slap his butt with a challenging look that leaved Changbin's blood boiling. Changbin was torn between admiration and despise. Felix leaved with a last glare that left Changbin weak on his knees.

_ Fuck _ .

Behind Changbin, Jisung have apparently sober up from his previous state of panic, and stepped out next to him, still wary. Which was good because Changbin definitely didn’t want to face Minho alone now that Felix had left. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew that Minho will destroy him and his family if they had any ill intention toward Chan. He could probably make them confess things they didn’t even do.

“So, you guys know Chris, hum?” Minho said with an unfathomable smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “From what? Why are you calling him Chan? I’ve never seen you before, what’s your name? Surely, I might have heard about you.” His tone was sipping with venom like poisonous honey, emphasised by his sharp grin.

Feeling overwhelmed by this sudden interrogation, Changbin straightened up to make himself look bigger with new-found determination and pure self-defense instinct. He was Chan’s best friends for now 5 years, and it wasn’t today that a stranger would have something to say about that.

Jisung looked back and forth between them, feeling a new heaviness in the atmosphere. Minho’s sultry smirk versus Changbin’s fierce eyes. Jisung was about to put a hand on Changbin’s shoulder to calm him down when Chan arrived, panting.

“Gosh, sorry guys, I totally forgot time but now I’m here!” Chan said, noticing the tension in Changbin’s shoulder while Minho adopted a more relaxed pose when Chan’s first spoke.

“Well, I’m leaving you then. Some of us have things to do,” Minho’s hummed, not even trying to hide his Cheshire Cat smile at Changbin’s clear ire. He gracefully turned heels, leaving his hand brush Chan’s shoulder before rejoining a Felix and another boy that were looking at the confrontation with curiosity. However, Minho was quick to hush them back to work, and they were left with a sheepish-looking Chan.

“I'm sorry that you had to deal with Minho. He's… yeah.” Grimaced Chan, rubbing his hands down his neck. “He's not a bad guy. He just don't deal well with strangers for… Reasons. Anyway. Yeah.” Chan and Jisung exchanged a look of concern over Changbin’s shoulder. 

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it. Let’s go.”

“Let me just gather my thing, and we be fine to go.”

Changbin could only raise his hands up to the sky whereas Chan jogged away from them. From what he could assume was a pile of clothes, Changbin saw him grabbing a bag at the back of the room where others dancers were waiting for him with devilish smiles. 

Jisung offered a small smile to a still upset Changbin, then frowned his nose and stuck his tongue out when they saw Chan told something with a hand rubbing his neck to an unimpressed Minho. Changbin hid his laugh with a cough.

Finally, Chan seemed to have finished, a pout lingering on lips showing he was however not satisfied with the result. But Minho’s turned back was a clear indicator that the discussion was over. Chan sighed loudly, a sight that Jisung and Changbin were used of but for once wasn’t directed at them. It was nice if they had something to say about that.

Changbin pretended to not see Chan kissing the forehead of Felix and whispering something in a foreign language to him. He kicked Jisung in the ribs as he was staring too hard, the moment obviously not meant for their eyes.

“Ok ok, I’m here guys!” Chan wrapped his arms around their both shoulder, crushing them against him, ignoring Changbin’s ‘finally’ to focus on a way more happy Jisung. “‘M sorry, things were kind of crazy today, but thank you for coming here. It means a lot.”

Changbin pretended to groan at his cheesy line, pulling the cap over his eyes. This was typical of Chan to blurt out this kind of thing at the most random time but Changbin could never get used to it. But it was also somewhat nice. To know how much a person love you and they’re that unapologetic about that.

If Changbin huddled himself more on Chan’s side, it wasn’t anyone business.

And certainly not the business of the person with pretty lips and icy look from whom he could feel the eyes burning at the back of his head.

 

—

 

“I really didn’t know you could store that much food into your cheeks without them bursting out. Squirrel’s body are truly fascinating.”

Changbin dodged the flying pillow with a shit-eating grin. Some figurine on the shelf above his computer took the blow for him and made a strange noise when touching the ground. It wasn’t too worrying, though; these had knew better day and were Chan’s anyway. And Chan wasn’t here to complain so what he didn’t know won’t hurt him.

Jisung whipped a noodle off of his chin with a frown while pointing at Changbin with menacing chopsticks. Changbin was almost sure he saw a movie where chopsticks were used as weapons. He tried not to think about that. They were way too much blood in this film for it to include food scene. “Fuck you.  Stop saying I look like a squirrel because I swear, you’re gonna finish your stupid track alo—”

“Hey guys, what are you still doing here?” A voice resonated behind them, making Jisung jump on his seat and spill some water on him. An uneasy expression flashed on Jisung’s face as he looked at the new arrival behind Changbin’s back.  _ Oh, oh _ . Changbin witnessed Jisung slyly hide his cigarette packet between the couch cushions. If he hadn’t understood before, it was the last big red flag Changbin needed to know that they were, most probably, in trouble. 

They were actually not supposed to be at the studio eating ramen at 2AM but they had reasons. Rather, Changbin had reasons.  _ And good ones for once _ , Changbin spun around to defend their cause but deflated quickly under Chan’s suspicious glare and clenched jaw.

The truth was, even if he hated it, that Changbin was stuck. The stuck that made him lose the little sleep he normally was able to get at night, that he could feel in his stomach, an ugly bellyache of anxiety, and that made him stay in the studio with a whiny Jisung. It was the kind that made Changbin believe in his lowest moment he never write anything good again. But telling all of that to Chan would also result to an intense session of ‘you need to talk about your feelings dipshit’ and he was really  _ really  _ not in a mood for that. 

Changbin swallowed. Jisung coughed. Chan popped his knuckles.

“Oh, don’t act as you’re not here too! You’re just as bad as us,” gave in Changbin after a short (but intense may he adds) eye contact. God, Chan was scary when he wanted to. It didn’t help that he knew they were in wrong. While leaving the studio, Chan  _ told _ them they should go home early today. Changbin looked at Jisung to get some support.

The blue light of the computer was almost blinding and cast prominent shadows on Jisung’s face in the too-dark room. Dark circles weren’t an uncommon feature on Jisung, Changbin got startled by how deep they were under this light. He could feel his determination melt bit by bit as he slid down his chair.

Guilty look meeting each other and discrete signals exchanged, Changbin knew he could count on Jisung to calm down the situation. Chan always had a soft spot for Jisung's doe eyes and Changbin had no remorse exploiting that weakness. Jisung ultimately putted down his low-budget ramen on their coffee table, between two bottles of soju and a basket full of walnuts. They probably should be more concerned about the state of this table than they currently were. It would make his mom faint and his dad question his education. More than he already did at least.

“Listen, we’re sorry. We— I just— You know, things to finish. Inspiration or whatever.” His pathetic explanation didn’t seem to have made a great impact on Chan who had now crossed his arms. Without reaching and basic knowledge on body language, Changbin could only guess he wasn’t entirely happy. 

Ending his suffering, a quiet sigh just replied to Changbin as Chan removed empty bottles on the couch to sit next to Jisung. This place definitely needed some cleaning, but it was a discussion for another time. “Stop picking up at your cuticles, Binnie.” Changbin threw his hands in the air, submitting without a fight. It made Chan chuckles. A win for the gay, so. “And you’re right, I suppose that I am a hypocrite. Sungie, give me some ramen, please.”

Dumbfounded, Changbin observed Chan then proceed to start fighting Jisung for a noodle. His method of hugging-him-until-he-give-up didn’t seem to work extremely well. Changbin collapsed back on his chair, all the muscles in his body relaxing from a tension he didn’t know he was holding until now. “What the hell Chan, you were starting to scare me.”.

His only answer was a sticky tongue and a yelp from Jisung. Incredible how fast Chan could go from the Most Boring Dad Ever™ (Jisung’s word, not his) to the guy who was fighting over cheap ramen.

And, for a moment, it was eternity. The clock indicating now 2:34 am, their questionable studio that was way too expensive for them, bathed in blue light and surrounded by empty shells of walnuts and his best friends. Changbin's eternity, a moment that felt as ephemeral as a dandelion yet so tangible he could drown in it. 

Then, Chan spoke: “Sung’s cheeks when he eats really make him look like a squirrel.”

“Oh my god, you just stuff everything in your cheeks and take it out to eat bit by bit! It’s not that revolutionary! Actually, it’s the peak of human evolution : all of you are just  _ weak _ and natural selection is coming for your ass. My twitter will hear about it, you bunch of bully.”

Eternity.

*

“So.” Changbin stopped spinning on his chair to face Chan who feigned to not hear. After completing his mission of getting some food from Jisung (not without extra knocked down figurine), Chan had just sat at his computer without telling them anything. It was frustrating for lack of words, to see Chan so secretive. And Changbin wouldn’t lie by saying he had been pretty thrilled to see Chan leaving the studio so early and that seeing him came back at 2AM wasn’t the best surprise he had. Changbin coughed (choked up on a walnut but this was an unnecessary information), catching Chan and Jisung’s attention. “Are you going to tell us why you came back? Full offense but it’s  a bit unlike you.”

“Hum… Well, I’ve gotten some news.” Changbin didn’t miss Chan’s nervous glance to Jisung. “I intended to talk to you both about it tomorrow but, it’s already tomorrow so technically..”

“Okay...?” It sounded unspeakably ominous to Changbin’s ear. When he said it was a weird behavior for Chan he really meant it. If something was wrong, Chan was more the type to talk to you about that directly rather than beating around the bush like he was doing right now, avoiding their eyes in an awfully unsubtle way. Moving from tab to tab while scowling to make you look serious wasn’t working on Jisung and Changbin anymore. 

“So, you’re aware of the fact we sent some of our works to labels, right ?”

“Yeah, but wasn’t it, like… month ago?” Of course they remembered.  It was a long and painful project of theirs, sending the first draft of an album to labels. Woojin and Seungmin had been their first support during those long months of creating and recording. This experience has been so stressful to all of them that when they finally send the last email they collectively decided to not talk about it anymore. Until now apparently. 

“Yes. And like I said, I got news.” Jisung was now almost bouncing on the couch while a bright smile exploded on Chan's face. “One replied and said that they want to see more from us! I still to arrange a real life meeting and shit but, guys! They liked it!”

After, Changbin couldn't tell if it was him yelling, or Jisung. Probably Jisung but it didn’t really matter. What matter was the way Chan’s eyes were glittering with pride, the way Jisung threw himself on Chan and him, bringing them in a hug that was too tight but felt so right, the way Changbin’s ugly bellyache disappeared for a moment, replaced by a rush of warm. Nothing else matters but the thought  _ they did it _ .

It was maybe too soon to say it but at least, they knew they were going somewhere.

Changbin didn’t cry when Jisung broke down in their arms, nor when Chan’s nose became more red than usual. Instead, he whipped tears away from cheeks and patted backs with a smile and whispered praises. Holding them like they held each other since the beginning, a payback for all the time they spend and will spend together.

_ You did amazing, guys. _

By mutual agreement, they did not talk. They would say too much and not enough and Changbin felt like he would follow Jisung in his uncontrollable sniffing quickly if they get cheesy. “It’s too late for this kind of announcement you asshole, look what you did to us,” grumbled Changbin at Chan, with no bite behind his word.

Finally, after a long silence, not uncomfortable just too full of emotion that were too much to decipher right now, Changbin stood up to stretch with a poorly repressed yawn. The clock was now past 3AM and his stomach twisted again, looking at Chan and Jisung intertwined figures on the floor. It was okay. It would and it will. 

Changbin ruffled Chan’s hair and was about to do the same with Jisung when he realized that the younger had fallen asleep into Chan’s arms. Fighting a smirk back, Changbin observed the fond expression on Chan before taking Jisung’s jacket to throw it on him. But it didn’t mean he would not tease the shit out of Jisung next morning. In fact, it was just because Changbin felt a little guilty to have made Jisung stay up so late that he didn’t already took enough photo to held an exposition.

Oh, yeah, tomorrow will be  _ fun,  _ when he’ll tell Jisung about how Chan lifted him like he weighed nothing and silently insisted to ride him home to not wake Jisung up. He better thanks him too, to have to find an excuse to not come home with them yet. Maybe it would have more to do with the heaviness on his heart than being a good wingman for his sleeping friends but well, the result was the same.

Before leaving, Chan addressed a long lasting look at Changbin before whispering. “Just… Come next Thursday, okay? Woojin thinks you die and that I’m pushing back the moment of telling him.”

“Yes hyung, now go home, would you ? You did good today.” The grateful smile that Chan send him was worth all the lies and buried down stomach ache. For them. He would do it.

The mouse pointer was mocking him over his blank word page.

It seemed like he had a problem to solve, and quick. He turned off the computer. It was a problem for tomorrow Changbin.

 

—

 

The tapping of Woojin’s finger against his glass was getting annoying. But Changbin couldn’t bring himself to tell him to stop and just took a sip of his Makgeolli. Sometimes, he learned, silence was gold. Particularly when Woojin was in that mood.

To be honest, It would have irked Changbin too if he had been waiting for 30 minutes for someone to show for them to text at last a poor “would be there in a few minutes, don’t worry and order without me”.

_ Bang ‘Chris’ Chan, you’re a dead man _ , thought Changbin when the door of the restaurant busted open, revealing an out-of-breath Chan with messy hair. Changbin found himself suddenly very interested by the architecture of the ceiling. In front of him, Woojin whipped his head toward the noise source and, out of the corner of his eyes, Changbin could tell that he was grinding his teeth.

So long, perspective of a nice and peaceful diner.

Catching Woojin’s threatening eyes, Changbin made a pleading expression and pouted for good measure. This technique had divided response in his friend group; one was throwing the nearest object next to them ( _ that paintbrush had hurt more than you think, Jeongin _ ) and another squishing his cheeks to death. But he always managed, one way or another, to get what he wants. The pout was powerful in a way out of his control.

Woojin tongued his cheeks but eventually looked away with an expression that Changbin interpreted as his victory. Woojin had always been the weak one to his antics. It was a good timing because Chan had pulled the chair next to Changbin and looked ready to run for his life at any signs of hostility. Changbin couldn’t blame him, Woojin was terrifying when angry, which fortunately was rare. Discreetly, Changbin punched his elbows onto Chan’s stomach. It was his mistake, no matter how much Changbin would plead for his case.

“Um… Hi, guys?”

“I will say nothing but I’ve already ordered for us. And you are eating all of it in front of me. I pay. You shut up and eat.”

Dinner with Woojin and Chan was an old tradition from when they first met that never die. The story was long and boring, and Changbin was convinced that everyone had somewhat forgot. It implied late essays, lost usb and lit party that ended up not so great. But it had somehow stayed and became an excuse for them to escape the baleful claw of college draining life around a barbecue. Sometimes, just whining to your friends while eating  _ samgyopsal _ was a better medicine than anything a doctor would prescribe.

And even Woojin’s complaint couldn’t hide his eyes smiles when he looked at Chan telling them an absurd encounter with one of his professor. They had yet to tell to Woojin about the good news.

“Changbin, I’ve heard you met Felix and Minho?” Changbin almost spitted out what he was drinking.

“I did, you know them?”

“Minho is a good friend of mine. And Felix is a nice kid, I was waiting for you to meet actually,”

“Really…”

“I think you two could be,” the look Woojin shared with Chan didn’t go unnoticed and Changbin squinted his eyes at their behavior, “good friend. You are kind of similar. I just feel you have the same consuming passion, maybe you could bond over that.”

Changbin wasn’t sure at this point if he was being roasted or if Woojin was trying to set him up with Felix. Both probably.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I don’t want a relationship now. Beside—”

“Come on. At least try to be nice with him, he’s a little lonely right now. And don’t fool me with this ‘I don’t want a relationship’ talk, go off your emo phase it’s been years.”

“Emo is forever, you dipshit. And I was just trying to tell you about the label interested in us but whatever I guess.”

Woojin whipped his head to Chan who raised his hands quickly, caught off guard. They all ignored the flying piece of meat. “The WHAT? Christopher what he is talking about?”

“Um… Surprise?” Finally, said Chan with an awkward smile.

Woojin seemed to want to say something for a moment but finally opted to just hit Chan in the arm. He pretended to collapse dramatically before Woojin pulled him in a hug. “Oh god I hate you so much but I’m also so proud of you come get your hugs.”

If Chan had been thrilled to share hugs, the moment had been close to painful for Changbin. But at least Woojin promised to pay for the diner and had forgot to ask further about Felix. Changbin wasn’t sure he would be this lucky next time but he, at least, got a break.

And a free meal.

 

—

 

Seungmin’s studio was quiet, making the ticking of the old clock on the wall (a gift of his mother apparently) resonated like a gong in Changbin’s ears.

Changbin peeped a little at Seungmin’s arched back from the couch, wondering what was he doing for the past hour. It included scribbling in a notebook with an intense look on his face from the little Changbin could see. It was nice to see Seungmin being that invested in something even if he seemed sort of murderous. He muffled a laugh as Seungmin paused with furrow brow, looking way too serious between his dying jade plant and his two-weeks dishes.

When they were not bickering, Changbin really did enjoyed Seungmin’s habitually chill presence.

And the fact he was one of the few people in his friends group with which he could actually read a book with was nice. He usually didn’t care and even indulged Jisung’s constant need of attention and hugs but it could be bothersome while reading a book. Also, he couldn’t bear either the satisfied glare of Chan or Woojin, like they were actually proud of him to read instead of breaking his back on his keyboard. It not that it wasn’t nice to know that actual people cared about him but it was just too much sometimes.

Therefore, he was here, at Seungmin’s shitty studio on his dubious couch that reeked of chips and past drunk mistake. The autumn zephyr turned a page of the book Changbin was reading before he zoned out, bringing a scent of wet leaves. He ignored Seungmin groaning that it was too cold to open the window and redirected his attention to the abandoned book.

Changbin was weirdly obsessed in flowers’s language these days. When the subject came around a discussion with Woojin, his eyes lighten up in a way that was either extremely positive or totally disastrous. Turns out it was both and Changbin soon found himself with nine books on the Victorian language of flowers and an enthusiastic Woojin that he couldn’t disappoint. He wasn’t complaining though, flower language  _ was _ interesting.

The loud slam of the door, breaking the strange serenity of the room like a broadsword made Seungmin and Changbin jump.

“Mate, I just had the worst day ever, you won’t believe it.” A voice erupted from the entrance and Changbin glanced curiously at Seungmin who already seemed to know who it was. Apparently it was common because Seungmin only sighed while putting away his notebook. The voice continued on rambling with a mix of English and Korean, deep and weirdly familiar. Changbin’s eyebrow raised unintentionally when the owner of the voice revealed himself. He surely didn’t expect to see Chan’s Felix here. “First, Minho was an absolute  _ bitch _ today for fuck know why, like he made us do the same move at least ten times it was  _ hell _ . Excuse us poor plebeians to not catch up directly on the fucking choreography Satan’s asshole created himself.” Changbin covered a wheeze in his sleeve. Felix didn’t appear to have noticed him yet and continued on rambling, a bag in one hand and the other gesturing wildly. “Next thing I know, I send a mail with a typo to one of my professor, then I couldn’t eat bec—”

Felix stopped right on his track, frozen in mid-sentence, his eyes meeting Changbin’s. Changbin smiled awkwardly under the wide eyes of a dishevelled-looking Felix. The stark contrast from the last time he saw him, angelic and awe-inspiring, made Changbin pause a second to observe this new side of Felix. He visibly come back from some sport, leggings and a sweater he drowned in. Under this light, what previously appeared as the skin of a marble statue, was a little flushed and have taken a golden glow that couldn’t be seen between the white walls of the dance department. Where makeup should have been, smudged by an impatient hand, freckles appeared. If Changbin was cheesy, he would have called them stars.

Changbin thought about the book on his lap. Associating people with flower had crossed his mind as some meaning were oddly specific (“poor, but happy” was a personal favorite) but his mind went blank when it came to Felix. It was probably childish to be frustrated to not be able to put an exact word on someone he has met only a couple time but he found himself to be so.

He ignored the way Felix took a step back to smile at Seungmin who was mouthing him to explain what the fuck he was doing. It was indeed weird to stare that long at an almost stranger. Especially when said-stranger had been confessing his whole shitty day at what he thought was only his friends.

“You have freckles.” Was the only thing Changbin’s brain could get out at this moment.

Felix turned into a bright red either from embarrassment or anger. Maybe both. He immediately covered his nose and cheeks with a hand, only wiping away more foundation. “I do, and what about it?”

Seungmin was looking back and forth, lost and was only the witness of the control of the situation slipping through his fingers. “Nothing, just surprising. It’s rare on Korean man.”

“Oh, yeah? Thank you for this insight I definitely needed,” retorted Felix, his knuckles white around the strap of his bag. A sentiment of instant regret crashed onto Changbin, seeing Felix so obviously upset. His intention was really not to upset Felix but his filter mouth to brain always seemed to break around pretty boys. Changbin cursed his gay panic ass and attempted to justify himself but Felix had now his attention on a confused Seungmin. “I thought you were working on your letter, what the fuck is he doing here ?”

Ouch. He kind of deserved it but still ouch. Changbin remembered his previous discussion with Chan and Woojin and sent a prayer for himself if they ever heard about this. Seungmin appeared flustered for a few seconds, and Changbin’s curiosity for the mysterious notebook peaked.

“I—” Felix’s eyes pierced him in place. “I can leave if I’m that much of a bother.”

He didn’t expected much of an answer but the patronizing huff and turned back wasn’t it.

“Minnie, you don’t mind me napping on your bed? Cool.” Seungmin closed his mouth before any sound could come out. It was not a question. Felix headed for the bedroom, head carried high but his usual lightness in steps weighted by tiredness and a long day. He however paused up at the door, not turning down to say under his breath, so quiet he could have just as well be an auditory illusion. “Just so you know, I’ve bought some earrings today.” Then closed the door behind him, drawing the final point of their conversation.

“Bought new- Oh, Felix…” It evidently had a hidden meaning that Changbin didn’t grasp. A secret code he didn’t have the instruction given to decrypt it.  Seungmin sighed and had a last longing look at the door before shaking his head at Changbin. It was all about choosing his battle.

 

—

 

A cry of pure agony ringed out in Changbin’s ear and he breathed out heavily, trying to calm himself down, and fighting the need to massage the bridge of his nose.

“I’M TAKING A SHOWER ASSHOLE, DON’T USE THE FAUCET!”

“WELL IF SOMEONE HAD DONE DISHES WHEN I TOLD HIM TO, THIS SITUATION WOULD HAVE NOT HAPPENED.” Changbin threw angrily the plate back in the sink. He was right. Jisung had let this situation happened with some “I will do it later, don’t worry bin” or “I’m not in the mood right now but definitely after this awesome karaoke playlist I made during the night”. The playlist was indeed awesome but now, they didn’t have a single piece of dishes clean.

The previous weeks had been so busy that Changbin didn’t put much thought on the state of their kitchen and it was, obliviously, the biggest mistake of them all. He just wanted to have a quick meal and here he was. Rubber glove on, dripping with dishwashing product and procrastination regret. At least, he finished one good track this week and had managed to meet Woojin so at least he had been productive in some ways.

The door of their bathroom busted open, revealing a soaked wet Jisung with an only brief on. Living with Jisung, Changbin discovered at his expense, was like living with a small pet. It was messy, smelly sometimes, needy and constantly asking for attention and most importantly didn’t have often clothes on. Major change was that he paid the rent. Most of the time. “At least put a shirt on, you animal.”

Jisung wiggled his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t mind if it was someone else who was half-naked here instead...” Changbin had the excellent idea of talking about his encounter with Felix with Jisung and he didn’t think he regretted a decision more than at this precise moment. He removed the slippery gloves which joined the previous plate into the sink. It was useless to try when Jisung was in this mood. He was going kimbap tonight, for the 4 night in a row but whatever.

Jisung had found a shirt by the time he had found a rest of kimbap in the fridge and was still doing suggestive eyebrows movement at him. How Changbin haven’t thrown Jisung in the street by now was truly a mystery. “You’re the worst hypocrite I know. How’s it going with Chan, um?”

Jisung sighed, a dreamy smile on his face, while crashing next to Changbin in the couch. “The other day, he fingered me and I thought I will die in the spot.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean he “fingered” you?”

“Well, you know when he goes,” Jisung pointed fingers guns at him then pretended to shoot with little sound.

“Ok, so this is not how—”

“THE POINT IS,” yelled Jisung, covering Changbin’s well needed constructive criticism, “he’s too cute for his own good, I’m too horny for mine, we should smash! But I’m also very anxious and terrified of screwing up so I’m not gonna do anything about it! Plus Minho and him were looking pretty close and by close I mean eye-fucking each other.”

“Listen, I suggest doing what makes you happy for now. If you don’t feel like talking to Chan and do anything  for now, it’s fine. And I don’t know about Minho and Chan. You didn’t seem insensible to Minho either, didn’t you?”

“Stop making me feel better. I just want to complain and eat ice cream under blankets while crying about my unrequited crush!”

Underneath his over-the-top reaction and melodramatic tone, Changbin knew this whole situation truly affected Jisung. After all, Jisung had always been more sensible than average and felt the equivalent of an ocean to what could have only been a mere water drop for other.

Thus, it was unlikely that Jisung’s glass heart only got out of this with a small chip. And if the curled and pouty form of Jisung at the other side of the couch was anything to go by, Changbin was right. With his foot, Changbin poked the side of Jisung who looked at him with a frown. But before he could say anything — probably about his lack of compassion — Changbin opened his arms and the way Jisung’s face lighten up was worth the dead weight carelessly thrown on him.

Even if Jisung was a somewhat smelly roommate, he was still the best cuddle buddy that Changbin knew of. Putting his head onto Jisung’s still damp hair, Changbin draw mindless patterns on his back while Jisung continued whining about everything and nothing. Cuddling session was not something they done often these past few weeks due to Changbin’s writer block and resulting growing anxiety and he didn’t realize how much he needed and missed it until now.

Jisung endless rambling had come full circle and as he was now talking about bad romcom cliché. Still hungry, Changbin mumbled with a hoarse voice: “You might find some ice cream in the Black Hole if you want.”

“Ew, really?” Jisung made a face, but it was a good enough reason to break the hug and get up. Whining from the loss of warm, Changbin observed with regret Jisung made his way to the door next to the kitchen in which, with pink and blue post-it, spelled “black hol”. They didn’t have enough post-it to make the final ‘e’ so they had just leaved it like that. It had been 2 years. The only and newest addition was the picture of the first actual photo of a black hole next to another photo of Katie Bouman. Changbin blamed Chan’s obsessed scientific ass and Jisung’s eagerness to accept everything coming out of Chan’s mouth. “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, you may eat my cake.”

“The one who’s been rotting in the fridge for the last 3 weeks? No thanks.”

Jisung pretended not to hear and soon, not without a long and dramatic sigh, he disappeared into the dark room. This room was at first a bedroom but when Jisung and him had to move in the apartment, it already had been transformed into a sort of storage room. As they didn’t care enough to actually do something about it, they decided to just leave it like that. Long story short, it became the Black Hole, a lot of things had been lost in it and was now overall full of regret and ‘ughhh gross is that an used condom?’.

And lack of ice cream or spiders judging by the yell Jisung made from the depth of the room.

Living with Jisung was fun. Living with his best friend was a concept meant to be fun intrinsically but most particularly when Jisung was into the equation. Even if it came along with dirty plates and bad decisions.

The book on the armrest of the couch was sitting next to a cigarette pack and a lighter. Changbin tried not to felt guilty while reaching for a cigarette, he could almost feel Chan’s disapproval. But it has been a long week. Fighting against the writing slump was eating him up. And the Felix situation wasn’t helping either. Again, Changbin didn’t though he would care that much but Felix’s hurt eyes still lingered in a corner of his mind.

Changbin opened the window to lean against and lighted up his smoke. It was a bad habit of Jisung and him when they were under too much pression. The first year they spent in the apartment, the house looked like a smokehouse most time. It was so much better these days but the full ashtray when he woke up wasn’t fooling him. They needed to get it together. And quick.

“Hyung?”

Changbin turned around, to see Jisung standing a blanket threw around his shoulder and his mouth twisted in a pout. If Changbin knew anything about Jisung, it was that he was annoyingly good at bottling up emotion and cared way too much. “I didn’t found ice cream but… we can do a Mario Smash? The loser call Chan to tell him he’s pregnant.”

Changbin crushed his cigarette-end onto the wall outside. It stained the dirty white wall with a black circle. He needed to get it together. “Bet.”


	2. Chapter 2

Changin loved Jeongin.

Truly. Jeongin was one of the sweetest person he knew but he had been also voted “Most Likely To Be A Witch In His Past Life And This One Too” in 9th grade. And, to be honest, they weren’t wrong. If Jeongin seemed psychic in 9th grade, entering art school only made him bloom in his singularity, encouraged by his friends. Ensue his everlasting nickname that Changbin given him in 7th grade that Jeongin pretended he hated but Changbin knew better. Baby witch was cute and perfectly fitting, thank you very much.

So, Changbin won’t complain about Jeongin embracing who he was and his passion but it was something else to go out with him. Jeongin was in one of his good day and have painted a nosebleed on himself and put a (“it’s not useless, it’s aesthetic hyung”) blue and pink bandaid on his nose. His usual set of mismatched socks and jewelries announced his presence wherever he goes and Changbin was feeling plain next to him. And he was taller. That wasn’t new but still felt unnatural.

“I feel you troubled, Bin.”

Pretending he hasn’t jumped at the sound of his voice, Changbin looked behind him, where Jeongin stoop with one bag full of tubes of paint in one hand and a canvas under his other arm. The hallways of the store were empty except for them and a girl with a beret and big glasses.

The wave of nostalgia that engulfed him a few minutes ago, made him broke a fond smile at Jeongin. He was so grown-up now.

“God, I can literally feel you’re getting cheesy. Please, just help me and take this canvas,” groaned Jeongin, shaking his head and making this piercing cling against each other.

Changbin only rolled his eyes, knowing it was useless to fight Jeongin on things like that. He was too powerful. Changbin muffled a cry when Jeongin literally threw him the canvas, unbothered by Changbin’s superb acting of someone being shot. See, son of Lucifer.

“Do you really need all of that though…” asked Changbin, ogling the bag he previously thought was only full of paint but contained also paintbrush, glitter, what looked like plaster and a hammer.

Jeongin huffed and turned on his heels. “Yes. I have a new project. It’s for the exhibition I told you about. If you have mirrors you don’t need, hit me up.”

Anyone in his right mind would know that giving something to Jeongin either meant you’ll never see it again or in a weird painting or sculpture of his, but Changbin nodded anyway. It was useless to ask questions; it was almost impossible to gather information about Jeongin’s project when they were in progress, Changbin had learned it long ago at his depends. His tibia did and will never forget.

“So must I really ask explicitly to know why you feel so troubled?”

“You’re so dramatic and for what. The usual, I can’t write, I’m worried about Jisung and Chan and Woojin won’t get off my back to have proofs I’m taking a break every day.”

“Why does it sound like there’s more though?”

Changbin let his hand trails against a paint can for a moment, debating whether he should tell him about Felix. It would be nice to have another point of view on the situation, he still felt bad about the other time at Seungmin, but it was also weird to talk about things like that with Jeongin. Changbin practically raised Jeongin (his words) and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to receive relationship advice from him. Not that they were anything romantic. Why should he feel ashamed? Yep. Totally.

“So? Are you going to avoid looking me in the eyes for the rest of the day?”

“No. No, sorry Innie. It’s just… boy problems.”

“Boy problems? I can help you!” Jeongin exclaimed, not waiting for his answer and quickly reached for his ita-bag, who had an unreasonable number of pins and stickers from obscure web comics and Japanese movies hang in. Jeongin’s smile too happy to Changbin’s taste and tranquility of mind. Between sketch notebook and coloured pencil, Jeongin found what he was searching and took out a set of tarot cards. They looked like they’ve seen the world begin and end but Jeongin insisted that it only made the spiritual energy more powerful.

Changbin sighed and put a hand on Jeongin’s stopping him. “No, Innie, you’re good. I don’t want a reading now.”

“If you’re sure,” said Jeongin with a pout. Changbin ruffled his hair, messing up the previously slicked back part of his hair, making him look younger. Even if he grew a lot, he shouldn’t forget that he was still so young behind all of his confidence.

“I’m sure, baby witch. Don’t worry about me.”

After that, Jeongin finally decided that he was done purchasing all that he needed and somehow made Changbin carrying all of his bags. It wasn’t that complicated honestly, he just had to pretend that it was  _ way too much for my little arms, hyung. _

Since Jeongin’s dorm were close to the store — the perk of being in art school —  Changbin insisted to walk him home.

Arrived in front of the building, Jeongin tried to get him to come with him but Changbin refused partly because he had things (crying over his unfinished song) partly because he knew that he would be interrogated again and this time he won’t be able to escape this easily.

“If you’re sure… You want me to get you a lift home? I can get my bike right now if you need to.”

Said bike had been a gift of Chan from a few years ago that Jeongin never wanted to get rid off even if it was a public danger. Even Chan have tried to convince Jeongin to just throw it in the next garbage dump but he has abandoned the moment Jeongin give him his big puppy-like eyes. Changbin wasn’t willing to risk his life today.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, Innie. I’m just gonna walk home, my monthly dose of sun and one thousand daily step.”

“Ok grandpa. Send me a message when you’re home?”

“Yes, go home now,” Changbin said, trying to shush the younger away. But Jeongin looked at him for a beat too long, biting his painted nails. “Hey are you ok?”

“Just… They’re gonna have big changes in your life and that’s not particularly for the worst so, keep a mind open, okay?”

Changbin hummed, used to Jeongin’s mysterious and mostly random advice, and waited until the lanky silhouette of his friend disappeared to finally take his way home.

Passing by a grocery store, Changbin suddenly had war flashback from their kitchen’s state and slowed down to stare at the vitrine with wonder. Maybe new dishes was the answer to their problem. It was another level of procrastination, buying new things to avoid washing the old one, but it was also nice to treat yourself once in a while. And it’s not like it was upsetting Jisung to get rid of their old dishes. The current plates had little flowers on that Jisung despised with no end.

Before changing his opinion, Changbin entered the shop, a mellifluous  _ ding  _ announcing his presence. To his delight, they were almost no one except a young girl, whose demeanor made clear she was bored to death, at the checkout, two or three customers and at the back, a seller with frowned eyebrows talking to a person, his back turned to Changbin. He whispered a quick “hello” to the first girl who responded with a grunt before wandering more into the shop.

He was looking at a set of glass while wondering if they could survive Seungmin and Jisung, when a shout attracted his attention. Changbin wouldn’t call himself curious by nature but today, he apparently was. Trying to be discreet, he began deeply interested in this superb collection of mugs with cats on it. Changbin picked up a white cup with a horrible rendition of a Menkoun, and he could see through the display rack and almost dropped the mug from surprise.

_ What the hell was Felix doing here. _

Changbin must have done too much noise while putting back the mug in place with shaky hands because he could instantly feel Felix’s icy glare in his direction. He instinctively stopped to breathe, until Felix decided that nobody was here and redirected his attention to the discussion. Changbin felt stupid to be so afraid of being discovered, but the atmosphere wasn’t one where an — almost — stranger should be interfering. Well, he couldn’t think either of a situation where it would be acceptable but particularly here.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know that word…” The tone of Felix’s voice was enough to make Changbin want to interfere. He still wasn’t sure how he truly felt about Felix but he didn’t wish him to sound as frustrated as he was now.

“I’m sorry sir, if you don’t want to buy anything, I will ask you to leave,”

Changbin felt his eyes widened as a hiccup of surprise could be heard from behind the ugly cup. He didn’t have all the context, but it sure sounded too harsh and unfair. And Changbin didn’t have a good history with unfair but have a long list behind him of impulse stupid action. These two didn’t combine well together usually. He shall test it today then.

The face that Felix made when he saw Changbin could have been funny if not vexing. He  _ did  _ made a bad impression. Changbin forced a bright smile on his face as he got closer to Felix and employee in his fifty.

“Hi Felix, how are you?” Changbin pretended to be surprised, Changbin as he looked between Felix and the employees, as if he was now realizing the tension in the room and added innocently, “You’re in any trouble?”

That was not Changbin’s most subtle move so far but he was doing what he can.

“No I’m not, thank you very much,” muttered Felix through his teeth, making sure that Changbin understood that he was  _ not  _ welcome in this discussion. Too bad that Changbin didn’t care. Which could look counterproductive but Felix didn’t seem the person to accept help from a complete stranger without a fight. Changbin couldn’t blame him on that since he was the same.

Looking at the disgruntled employee, who wasn’t hiding the fact he just wanted to go home and stop dealing with stupid kids, Changbin offered again his best fake smile. “What is the problems, sir ?”

“The problem is that your friend is pulling a prank on me.”

“I’m not,” said Felix through his teeth.

“So how come you asking for something unknown for the past ten minutes, young man ?”

“Ok, ok, let’s calm down. What are you asking for, Felix?”

“A- A  _ teapot _ .” The foreign word took a few seconds to be proceed by Changbin’s mostly monolingual brain. But exposure to Chan’s chaotic multilingual ass - asking for the same object in three languages was common - allowed him to get back up on his feet quickly.

“See!” barked the employee, making some head turn.

“Sir, with all of your respect, my friend is asking for a teapot not the impossible.”

The employee went red and bowed wordlessly before disappearing in what Changbin assume was the reserve. Changbin pretended not to see Felix looking at him. The situation was uncomfortable enough to not try an awkward small talk so Changbin let the noise of porcelain clattering resonate between them. And it was not a reach to say that Felix probably didn’t want to tell him anything.

After that, everything went in a blur, Felix got his teapot and bought it and Changbin found himself wait for him. He tried to convince himself that it was because it would be weird to introduce himself as Felix’s friend and then leave him just like that. Not because he wanted to see if he was fine.

Outside, Changbin couldn’t help his fingers to fidget, nervously drumming on his legs. In another circumstances, Changbin would smoke by now, but he was too on the edge to even bring himself to get his pack out next to Felix. Felix who still haven’t said a word to him and was fiddling with his bag trust. But he was still there, so it was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Changbin coughed. “So… Want me to take you home? I have nothing to do after so…” He justified himself quickly.

Felix’s mouth tightened, but he nodded. Changbin was apparently bond to take cute boy home today. Not that he minded much, but the contrast was striking between Jeongin’s constant teasing and Felix’s silence.

Small talk had never been Changbin forte. Even with knowing that, Changbin tried hard to make conversation with Felix - he could almost taste the silent approval of Woojin - but it felt like talking to a wall. Only at the mention of Jeongin, Felix reacted by an out-of-the- blue and enthusiastic “Oh you know nini” but that was pretty much it.

Changbin tried not to feel too defeated when Felix stopped in front of his building.  

“Ok, well hit me up if you’re in need or something…” That was probably the stupidest thing he ever said in his life. First, Changbin had none way to contact Felix, secondly why the hell would he be calling him of all people. Felix thought the same thing because he raised his eyebrows, scornful.

“I didn’t need your help, prince charming. I could have had handled it myself.”

Changbin couldn’t help a smile at Felix’s offended tone. Cute. “Yeah, you clearly were. And it’s knight in shining armour for you.”

“You’re insufferable,” concluded Felix

“So you know ‘insufferable’ but not ‘teapot’?” Changbin regretted the words as soon as they get out of his mouth. Was he crossing a line? So soon after Felix had visibly relaxed around him ?

“Let’s say, I had way more opportunity to use that word during my time here.”

Changbin chuckled, relieved.

“I just want to say… I’m sorry for the last time. It was shitty of me, you were obviously uncomfortable and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine. Don’t get so work up, I was a bit of a bitch too so…” Changbin opened his mouth to protest but Felix was quicker to add, “really, Changbin, don’t worry.”

Changbin pretended that his heart didn’t skip a beat at Felix saying his name and waved at him when Felix turned over a last time to smile at him before he entered the building. Insufferable maybe, but most of all, he was ridiculous.

At home, Changbin realized that he had forgot to buy what he originally wanted while entering the shop. But somehow, it did not bother him that much. It seems like he did not come out empty-handed.

 

—

 

Everything happen too fast for Changbin’s tired mind. First, it was a regular day, if not more boring and draining. Then, he met up with Chan, talking about what shit Jisung had been dropping in the Black Hole when Chan received a phone call. Next thing he knows, he found himself in the storm's eye called dance rehearsal.

Chan was playing a music box-sounding music on piano, totally in his element, a dancer with a mole under his left eye - Hyunjin as he was introduced later - resting against the big instrument while Minho was loudly catcalling Felix who was doing  _ fouettés _ like his life depends on this. Changbin didn’t know it was even possible to do this many turn on your fucking toes until now. He could feel his feet cramping up just at the thought. This wasn’t a problem for Felix apparently who had now stopped and was leaning on Hyunjin, dizzy, and laughing with his whole body.

Now that he was thinking about it, maybe he should have asked where Chan was bringing him instead of blindly follow him. Sitting on the wooden floor of a dance class was an interesting experience but not really how he planned his day. At least, Felix didn’t hate him guts no more. He thinks. He wasn’t even sure of this part to be honest.

The group of giggling dancers mess was quickly dispersed by a severe-looking woman in her forty who just had to clap her hand for everyone to straighten up. However, Felix was still dawdling over Chan’s piano, displaying a dazzling smile each time Chan laughed.

As curious expression were sent to his way Changbin hesitate a moment before rejoining Chan. After all, he was the one who dragged him into this mess, and he should get hold accountable. Getting closer, Chan waved at him while Felix considered him for a moment before smile softly.

“New earrings, Fée?”

“Yes.” The abruptness of the answer made Changbin’s eyebrow rose. The bubbly exterior he had seconds ago disappear in the space of a few words. However, he switched to his cheerful behavior in a blink of an eye and went backward slowly, leaving Changbin confused. “Anyway, I should go! Mrs Jeon will beat my ass otherwise and we don’t want that, don’t we?”

Neither Chan nor Changbin had the time to answer, Felix was already jumping onto Hyunjin’s back. A look at Chan told Changbin right away he won’t learn anything from him. It wasn’t the first time he heard about those damn earrings and Felix and even if highly intrigued; Changbin felt it was wrong to force things out.

Next to him, Chan patted the piano stool, encouraging him to seat but Changbin declined his proposal with a wave. He was the one intruding the class; he wasn’t in addition bothering Chan at the piano. Rather, Changbin leaned against the piano, observing the class getting ready to warm up.

Having never experienced what a dance class looks like - especially ballet - Changbin was rather curious. Obviously, he knew about the bar and all that jazz, but what they were doing precisely was a blurry concept in his mind.

The warm-up was done by group and Changbin quietly watched Felix go without hesitation toward his friends with a delighted expression. It was nice to see Felix in an environment he was comfortable in, as opposed to their latest interaction. The giggle erupting and impacting all of Felix’s small frame confirmed his previous statement. Bored, Chan played a little melody at the piano whereas the dancers showed off some…. Impressive flexibility for lack of words. Even in his dream, Changbin couldn’t aim at this level of control. Not sure what would be the utility anyway and-  _ oh fuck was doing Felix doing a fucking full split? _

While his thoughts was drifting—as always — a contest had taken place, probably from Minho’s initiative by his smile. The modality and rewards was unknown for Changbin, but Felix had a smile satisfied enough to inform him he wasn’t doing too badly.

Oblivious to Changbin’s fluttered state, Chan switched the calm melody he was playing to a more upbeat song that sounded vaguely to something they heard in the radio, 2 hours ago. Rather inadequate for a ballet class but not surprising coming from Chan. The sudden change had caught the attention of some dancer who giggled as Chan send a wink on their way.

_ Ox and libra... Jeongin had warned him about them. _

Trying to ignore Chan’s—gross— flirting, Changbin instinctively turned his attention to where he was previously looking at. Which happen to be the ongoing contest. And Felix. Who was already looking at him, still on full split, elbow on the ground and an unbothered hand supporting his head. The worst thing is that it looked like he was  _ comfortable  _ and Changbin hadn’t felt so stiff in his life just by looking at someone.

The embarrassing shudder that goes through his body was only because of a sudden draught and not by the shy smile coming from a too-pretty and too-flexible boy.

*

It would be a lie to say that Changbin always had a high sensibility for the art of dancing. Not that he had anything against it either, he was just… neutral about it. Observing the organised chaos in front of him now, it might change.

The word dance had always had something elegant about it for Changbin, even without being an eager consumer. An embrace, a blur, hues of blue and grey intertwining with a trickle of vivid red. It was always abstract in his mind he didn’t feel the need to talk about it too much, thought. Not enough to write a song neither to check it out.

But, as he said, it might change. Obliviously, what he was witnessing now still needed some polishing. From this one person who tumbled or the other one who forgot a step and stood in place for a few seconds, it was a rough draft of its final form, even for inexperienced eyes. It didn’t take the shine away. Passion dripping with the pearl of sweat down Minho’s temple or into Hyunjin’s ferocious smile, it was no doubt they belonged to the stage, the spotlight and everything bright.

Looking at Felix was almost painful. One day, Changbin had overheard Chan talking about Felix and describing him as “a ray of sunshine”. At the time, Changbin had cringed. Generic and cheesy, it was a weak metaphor — particularly for Chan who could compose symphonies about a shutter. Where he came from was clearer now that Changbin knew Felix no longer only from Chan’s words. Some rectification needed to be made, however.

More than a ray of sunshine, Felix was a blazing sun.

Changbin was maybe a sunflower. Unable to turn away from the sun. He just hoped to not realized that he was, all this time, Icarus.

The urge to laugh at himself made him turn his head away—he was the biggest hypocrite ever, teasing Chan on his unoriginality and then talking about Icarus.

It was only after the professor stopped them to take a break that Changbin realized he was right next to a stock of water bottles. Before getting crushed by thirsty ballerina, Changbin stood up and stretched. He had been immobile for too long and his muscles weren’t happy about it.

“Hey, prince charming,” a voice arisen next to him making Changbin jump. Flustered, he was about to—gently — scold the intruder but the bright smile of Felix dissuaded him quickly from doing so.

“Hi— Wow, yes, hello, sorry.” Was Changbin doomed to embarrass himself in front of Felix in this building? At least, Felix didn’t seem to mind as he stepped back to let him breath. It was unfair how good he looked after sweating so much. Speaking of which, Felix made no move toward the water bottle, in stark opposition with his confreres. “How are you since… well, last time?”

“Good, thank you, hyung. Actually, I wanted to ask you something, if you don’t mind?” Changbin nodded alongside with him grabbing a bottle from the ground. Then, he lent it to a distracted Felix who took it with no second-thought. “Can you not tell Chris about last time? You know how he is, I don’t want to worry him and actually… the teacup set is for him so it’s embarrassing,” Felix giggled nervously, fiddling with the bottle and glanced at Chan as to make sure he wasn’t listening.

“No problem, don’t worry. And also,” slowly walking backward, Felix tilted his head at Changbin suddenly jumpy behavior. “You dancing great — I mean—”

Not letting Changbin embarrass himself even more, Felix beamed at him, interrupting his train of thought. Feeling himself flatter under his blaze, Changbin pointed dumbly at the bottle in his hand. “Don’t forget to drink.” The look on Felix’s face when he realized that yes, he was in fact holding a bottle, made Changbin snort. He observed Felix tripped while going back to his friend with a weight lifted from his heart.

“You better now?” Changbin looked at Chan who had joined him in the meantime, confused. “You were kind of down so I figured out that maybe a new environment might be good for you?”

“You know what ? Yes. Thank you, Chan.”

 

—

 

“Maybe if you stanned loona…”

“Fuck off Jisung, that’s not what I want to hear right now.”

“I’m just saying y’know,” Jisung shrugged and obnoxiously pop out his lollipop, leaning back on his chair.

The last week had been an ordeal for Changbin. For starters, his writing block had returned stronger than ever when he thought he was getting over it smoothly. And the fact that everything that Jisung and Chan touched next to him seemed to turn into gold was starting to seriously to burden him. When Changbin thought it couldn’t go any worse, Jisung discovered that would have been the last straw for Changbin if it wasn’t funny. Apparently, Felix, Hyunjin and Jisung along with Seungmin already knew each other via twitter (“it’s called mutuals”), were fan of the same kpop group (“hyung, can you believe Loona invented kpop”) and it resulted in a mental breakdown at four in the morning for Jisung and new numbers in his phone.

All of this would have been fine, and Changbin was even thrilled that Jisung was having friends with the same interest as him outside of their closed group, if Jisung wasn’t  _ extremely  _ annoying about it. The constant notification from their new group chat _ —The Ass Troy Bolton Wish He Had _ was a dubious name but Changbin had prefer not ask _ —  _ would have been bearable, but Jisung was a spawn of the devil.

The cafe was almost empty. It was the middle of the afternoon, so it was understandable but it only made Jisung’s phone vibration even more obnoxious in the comfortable silence.

“Can you…” Changbin gestured toward where his phone was lying, next to a book with geraniums drawn on it. “Answer or something, please. I can’t focus.”

With a sigh, Jisung grabbed his phone and paused for a moment before looking back and forth at the screen and Changbin face. “It’s not like you were doing a lot anyways-” mumbled Jisung, loud enough for Changbin to hear but he got up before he could say anything.

“Hyunjin is waiting for me so I gotta run. Have fun with your flowers and lack of crush’s phone number!”

“What—”

“Bye hyung!”

Deep down, Changbin knew that Jisung wasn’t doing that entirely to be aggravating. But he still was. Very much so.

Scattered around the table, Woojin’s books gave an impression of abandonment that didn’t settle well with Changbin. When he tried to get them back to Woojin, but he only looked at him before answering a mysterious “I think you need them more than me”. Sometimes, it felt like Changbin was only friends with psychics. At least, who knew better than him.

The black leather of his notebook was like a black hole, aspiring his idea before they can even form themselves in Changbin’s mind. Skimming over the rugged surface of the closed book, the topography of a world he couldn’t access anymore was taunting him under his fingers.

Writer block was and probably would be Changbin’s oldest and cruelest enemy. Some could think he would get used to it, once every few months, his pencil not being able to move anymore or a blank screen facing him for hours. But it never gets better. Only worse.

Convinced by his friends that a change of atmosphere would help him, Jisung had dragged him to their usual cafe. It was a small thing, a Starbuck rip-off but still holding a certain appeal. Jisung would have argued that it was the fairy lantern but the potted plant that was doing it for Changbin. They changed every season, maybe by the owner, maybe by a fairy in one of the lantern, they never tried to know.

Today, someone set dark geraniums at the window. Again, nothing unusual but Changbin was just trying to distract himself. His fingers slipped from the leather and bumped into a book who was lying on the table.

_ Language of flowers _ . Sober and effective if you asked him. A little boring, though.  _ Language of flowers _ by Kate Greenaway. To say he ever heard of her would be an outright lie but Changbin was getting intrigued. Until now, he had only skimmed over the book without paying much attention, the incident with Felix disheartening him for a while. But now, he had nothing better to do so may as well search what those dark geranium meant.

Melancholy.

_ Fitting _ .

Not an emotion he would have chosen by himself but a good one for sure. Kim Sowol or Baudelaire had their thought about it. He did too.

His notebook was open before he even realized it and his pencil was writing words before they even had the time to sink down in his mind. It was probably just a coincidence and a case of a good timing but the euphoria of  _ writing _ made Changbin worship flowers and Mrs Greenaway for a hot second. Maybe he should continue to do it.

A flash of red caught Changbin’s attention for a few seconds but he soon dived back into his notebook and Victorians flowers.

 

—

 

Chan was late.

It wasn’t uncommon and at this stage of their relationship and it didn’t surprise neither Jisung nor Changbin anymore. The first time it happened, was about 3 weeks after they begin to work together. Even if they have already collaborated multiple time before, but moving in a new studio they paid for with their blood, sweat and more importantly a lot of tears and money, was another thing. So, when they set up a meeting and Chan showed up 20 minutes late, no need to say that Changbin was displeased. After a lot of discussion and Changbin experiencing first-hand Chan’s insomniac and borderline workaholic ass, they just didn’t care anymore.

What was uncommon was the screams they heard from outside. Jisung’s mouth was doing this thing that was telling Changbin that he was more anxious than usual. A particularly loud shout made Jisung jump and raised his hand to bite his nails. And no. Changbin and Chan didn’t fight tooth and nail (ah) to make Jisung lose his bad habit just for some losers, who couldn’t keep their business home, ruin it all.

Changbin caught Jisung’s arm, preventing him to do anything and smiled softly at his puff cheeks. “Don’t worry. Let hyung handle this, ok?” He ruffled his hair and leaved the room before Jisung could say anything.

To say that Changbin was getting seriously pissed wouldn’t be an understatement. He absolutely despised seeing this expression on Jisung, it was a reminder of too many things he would rather forget.

_ Breath _ . He was here, now. It was a shame that Chan wasn’t there; he was so much better at dealing with conflict than him. Less yelling and more understanding, Changbin just had a different approach. Maybe it was the resting bitch face, maybe it was the knife. Who knows?

The closer Changbin was from the screams, the more he could feel himself frowning. One voice was familiar. Extremely,  _ awfully  _ familiar. Chan’s familiar. The pace of his steps decreased radically when the sight behind the front glass door confirmed his fear. Here, Chan and Felix were engaged in a virulent conversation. At least from Felix’s side, with big gestures and flushed cheeks, was pointing an accusing finger to Chan who was the embodiment of silent anger. Crossed arms and tilted head were never a good look on Chan. Interrupting in situations where Felix was upset was a pattern that Changbin would have been fine without.

Another thing was that Changbin could actually audibly hear what they were talking about.

“Jimin and Hoseok lend me the keys and told me I could stay to practice!” The uneasiness in Changbin’s stomach increased hearing Felix’s upset voice.

“Well, I will have a word with them because—” It seemed like Chan was way over the discussion because he took a step back and Changbin froze in his spot.

Felix gripped Chan’s wrist, redirecting his attention, and said in a way more high-pitched voice than usual, visibly choking up tears: “No please don’t. They told me not to do too much, but... Please don’t tell them. They won’t trust me again with the keys and I just  _ need _ to practice, please Chris.”

“See, you’re breaking their promise and mine. No one wins here, Lix, so now you will come with me and sit here until I go home. I don’t know what you’re doing but you’re upsetting everybody, Minho sounded very anxious on the phone. So now, stop.”

As if it was the decisive blow for Felix, he just lowered his head; jaw tense and slapped away the hand that Chan was offering him. With no more word he turned down, noticing Changbin. The time froze at the same time as Changbin’s body tensed, as felt like a deer in the headlights between Felix’s watery eyes and Chan’s surprised face. He attempted to wave, but Felix had already opened the door and pass by him, shoving him without hesitation at the side.

Some people were beautiful when crying and it was the case of Felix. Changbin just had a quick view of his full face but it was enough to confirm that red eyes and flushed cheeks only made Felix look like another type of ethereal. Romanticizing none of Felix’s sorrow, Changbin could write a song about him. He glimpsed finally Felix’s back down the corridor then disappearing.

A gust of wind brought him back to reality, and Changbin was now over conscious that Chan was still outside and looked like a kicked puppy. Whatever they were arguing about, Changbin knew that Chan had done what he thought was best for Felix. Knowing him, Chan was most probably already blaming himself.

It was freezing outside, and the sun was playing a malicious game of hide and seek with them. Chan didn’t seem to feel the cold though, but he never did. It was like he had a heater in his heart that not only he wanted to share with everyone but was also keeping him from the chilly weather. Damn you, Chan. You are too good for this world. But Changbin didn’t have the privilege of being immune to low temperature and immediately stick himself to the side of Chan.

Chan’s love language always had been physical. A heartbreaking sigh escaped Chan’s lips as he leaned his head on top of Changbin’s one. Asshole. He was not that tiny.  “I just want you guys to be happy. You know that, Bin ?”

The sudden confession had briefly surprised Changbin before he pulled himself together enough to respond a quiet: “I do hyung, don’t worry. We do.”.

And he genuinely did. It baffled him sometimes how much Chan didn’t have a grasp on how much they  _ knew  _ he would do anything and that all of his friends was so so lucky to have him in their life. Changbin wanted to tell him that he was the most selfless that he had met, to the point he would lose himself for other, that he wished that Chan would focus on himself sometimes. But he didn’t and instead, hold his hand tightly.

Chan shattered the quiet moment, catching Changbin’s body between his arms and squeezed him to death. “Gosh, adulting is so haaaard,” Chan fake-cried into Changbin’s temples, turning blind eyes on the desperate noise coming from Changbin trying to just  _ breathe _ ,  _ what the fuck Chan _ . He was quick to give up, though, and ended up patting Chan’s curl while the other was resting on him.

“You want to go inside?” The pause was long enough to make Changbin try to see Chan’s face who was buried in his shoulder.

“I’m just going to smoke before, can you give me one, please?” The voice of Chan’s was muffled but Changbin could still hear the undertone shame.

The pack inside of his pocket became heavier than 100 tonnes of lead. He sighed. “How do you even know I have some on me?”

“I know Jisung hid one behind his computer and between the couch cushion and think he’s slick.”

“He’s a moron, that’s what he is,” bemoaned Changbin while offering him the open pack with a tight smile. After verifying that no one was around, Chan lighted up his cigarette with a huff. Last time, the dirty look of an old lady made them blush of shame and immediately crush their death stick under their shoes. Fortunately (or not, depending of the point of view), not a soul was in sight and white cloud of smoke was disappearing above their head.

It was obvious that Chan was pushing back the moment of going back to the studio but Changbin let him breath—well smoke in this case — before. The smoking problem was getting out of hand too but it was a worry for later.

After trying to distract Chan by talking to him about his flower of the week ( _ camelia: my destiny is in your hands _ ) for a good ten minutes, the thought of Jisung and Felix together made him uneasy. He hadn’t exactly figured out what was their dynamic yet, and he hoped it wasn’t the kind that would leave the studio half-burned half-drowned. Jeongin wasn’t allowed to stay alone with Jisung in closed spaces ever again. Changbin still had nightmares about this day.

So, with gentle pushing and less-gentle throwing of cigarettes in the closest bin, Changbin lead Chan inside the empty hallway. In front of the studio, he could see Chan took a huge breath in, and his back relax before turning the latch and opening the door.

It was not he was expecting, but it was better than a burned computer and soaked CPU. A headset on his ears, a can pressed on one of his puffy eyes, and onto Jisung’s laps, Felix’s attention was focused on the screen facing him. Jisung was enthusiastically taping the beat onto his own hand, where his arms linked around Felix’s waist. They seemed comfy at least.

Chan coughed and Jisung beamed at him, with no intention to budge apparent. “Hum… Hi, guys? We’re not bothering too much?”

“A bit but it’s ok, do not worry my child.”

Only the presence of Chan kept Changbin from jumping Jisung. Meanwhile, Felix had noticed them in the room and hasten to stand up, away from Jisung’s laps and grabby hands.

The bloodshot eyes and slightly red nose were the only giveaway that Felix had cried, as he was now standing up, an air of dignity not leaving the way he was holding his head. Huffing at Chan’s tentative smile, Felix turned his head without seeing his expression fall. Changbin rubbed a compassionate hand on Chan’s dejected shoulder.

As if silence might kill him, Jisung laughed nervously, looking back-and-forth Felix’s pout and Chan’s crestfallen face. It was quite a sight to see those two grown man fighting in the pettiest way possible and Changbin felt a bit like he was reliving his middle school years. Not a particularly good feelings.

Deciding that waiting for one of them to break would take too long, Changbin slowly made his way to his chair, ready to continue his track. Nowadays, the flower books never left his desk. After his ‘illumination’ (this sounded silly, even to him), Changbin had decided to not test his luck with writer block. Every week, he picked up a flower — either with his friends or with the cafe — and let it be the theme for his week. It had gone well so far. Changbin just hoped it wouldn’t go as fast as it came.

Also, he must have some snacks in his drawer and full stomachs eased people’s mind from his experience.

Jisung got hit in the head by the thrown pack of Choco Pies while Felix recept it with a graceful hand. Chan only put it in his back pocket, ignoring Changbin’s reproachful look.

“So…” finally said Changbin, looking at Felix who was eating, a can still pressed on one of his eyes. Changbin frowned. “Wait, where did you get that?”

“Jisung got me one from your… Mini-fridge? I hope it’s no bother…” said Felix, instinctively looking at Chan, an unusual shyness leaking out from his attitude.

“Oh no, don’t worry, Fée,” Chan hasten to add, relieved that Felix was finally directly talking at him.

“See, the mini-fridge wasn’t a total waste of money! Suck it, Chris!”

Chan raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth — to call out Jisung on using his real name or to scold him for his language, Changbin will never know because the sound of an EDM track that Changbin had heard before but couldn’t recall the name, resonated in the room. Chan visibly whitened a little as he pulled out his phone and saw the caller ID.

“Um, wait guys, Minho is calling,” Felix whipped his head so fast it would hurt if he was not Lee Felix and had an incredible amount of body control. By intense head shake and aggressive sign—the throat-cutting hand was apparently universal — Felix made clear Chan would have a bone to pick if he answered that call. Without breaking eye contact with Felix, Chan not only picked up the phone but also put it on speaker.

“ _ Hey babe, is Fée with you _ —”

They didn’t get to hear the rest as Chan’s eyes widen and quickly shifted speaker to his ears only, ignoring Changbin and Jisung snickering. But the way Jisung’s face slightly fell into a resigned sadness didn’t escape Changbin. Therefore, dramatic, Changbin launched himself at Jisung with a fake-enamoured demeanor, making him giggle and add eagerly to the act with a loud kiss on his head. Mission clear even if he got out with a sloppy kiss.

“Um, yeah he’s here,” finally said Chan, leaving the room, while behind his back loving flying kiss and melodramatic ‘babe’ were exchanged.

With a mutual silence agreement, they decided to not talk about it when Chan came back, ears red to Felix’s delight and Changbin’s amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD IM SO SORRY IM SO LATE ;-;
> 
> life is a bitch and mental health too so...... rlly sorry, i hope you still liked the chapter!! i hope the last chapter won't take as long but i can't promise anything hhh.
> 
> Love u and thanks for reading!! would love to hear your thought about this unedited mess :)
> 
> Ave <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading, this baby is being in my draft for MONTH and is almost finished but here I go! I hope you enjoyed it, English is not my first language so I apologize profusely for any mistakes.
> 
> If you have any question or problems please do ask!
> 
> \- Ave 🌙


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